Alternate
by I.write.what.I.write
Summary: My take on the Go! episode of the animated series, in an alternate universe as ordinary teens.
1. Robin

Robin:

"Come on Bruce! It's just a little gunshot wound! I'll be careful next time!" Dick pleaded.

"There won't be a next time." Bruce told him quietly yet sternly, gently swirling the contents of his tea cup as he sat on his large armchair by the fireplace.

"What do you mean?" Dick asked, fearing his foster father's words meant what he thought they did.

"You can't even raise your left arm without wincing Dick- I'm sure you know exactly what I mean." Bruce replied, his eyes staring at the flames.

"Ya well good thing I'm right-handed huh?" Dick joked weakly trying to lighten the mood in the dimly lit living room.

"Bruce, come on … you trained me for this. Don't you trust me anymore?!" Dick started getting restless.

"Alfred! Tell him please."

Dick begged the butler who was busy wiping the dust off of the decorations, but Alfred simply shook his head his dejectedly. He knew, more than anyone, that Bruce's word was final- nobody could convince him to change his mind.

Bruce's word was final.

"I'm doing this for your own good kid, you don't know what The Joker is capable of. You could've been killed!" Bruce finally stood up from his armchair and faced the boy.

"I said I'll be careful next time." He confidently said.

"This _beef_ between me and him, it's been between our families for a long time. I'd rather have you focus on living like a normal teenager than getting involved in mafia life."

"You didn't have a problem getting me involved in the mafia life when I was younger."

"That was just to catch Zucco and bring him to justice for killing your parents, that's it! Back then I saw potential in you and thought maybe- maybe, you could help out. But I can't risk you being injured like this again.

Those guys don't care if you're young or old. They'll take you down if you stood in their way. Either you do as I say or you leave my house."


	2. Raven

Raven:

Rachel took a deep breath before ringing on the doorbell to her mom's apartment. She straightened her black hoodie and ran her fingers through her short dark her with blue highlights. It's been forever since she'd last seen her mother.

"Rachel," A woman who looked similar to her except with longer hair said upon opening her door. "Come in."

She stepped aside to let the younger girl enter.

"Had something to eat? Or do you want me to fix you something?" She asked her.

"I'm good." Rachel replied standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room.

"I can still call you Rachel right?" The lady beckoned the younger girl to sit on the couch while she took a seat on an armchair. "Or did the colony give you another name?"

"Everyone there calls me Raven. What about? Do I call you mom or … Arella or Angella?"

Arella shrugged, "Whatever you're comfortable with."

"Azar used to call you Arella."

Arella hasn't seen or interacted much with Rachel since she was little. She had to give up her daughter when problems ensued between her and her ex-husband.

The closest thing to a mother, Rachel had, was her great-aunt Azar who recently passed away.

"So the funeral's tomorrow huh?" Arella asked still feeling a little awkward.

"Yup."

A knock on the door interrupted them and Arella stood up to see who it was.

After looking through the peephole, Arella turned around to face her daughter.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked standing up feeling alarmed.

"Hide." Her mother whispered as she frantically pointed to one of the rooms.

"Open up Angie," A sinister male voice said behind the door. "I know she's in there."

Rachel started to feel really uneasy about the situation despite having no idea what was going on, so she complied and went and hid in the bedroom. Keeping the door a little bit open so she could hear what was happening.

The stranger wouldn't stop knocking on the door and her mom threatened that she was going to call the police if he didn't leave them alone. Then silence.

Arella entered the bedroom looking pale and struggling to breathe as opened one of the drawers and took out a paper envelope filled with money.

"Here." Arella placed the envelope in Rachel's hands. "I need you to leave, you can't stay here! You can leave through the fire escape right out this window. You need to go back to the colony I'll meet you there!"

"What's happening Arella? Who is that man?"

"It's your father." Arella started sobbing as she sat on the edge of her bed and covered her face with her hands. "I'm so sorry."

"What does he want from me?" Raven prodded.

All she knew about her father was that he was the reason she was sent to the colony and put under her great-aunt's care.

' _He wants to use you to do bad things for him.'_ Was all Azar told her.

"There's no time for this! Just go!" Her mother pleaded and Rachel finally complied.

When she reached the bottom of the fire escape, a large hand suddenly grabbed her by her arm causing her to scream.

"What's wrong kid? Aren't you glad to see your dad?"

He was a large man with long white hair under a black beanie, his skin was tanned from what seemed to be the result of spending long, tedious hours under the sun. His grip was so strong that Rachel half-expected him to break her thin arm if she continued to struggle.

But she had no other choice. This man … this monster had a really evil vibe about him and she didn't want to stay around to see what he'd do to her.

"No" She screamed and swiftly kicked him between his legs causing him to wince and bend over slightly.

He was still holding her arm so she punched him on the nose and he finally let go.

"Rachel!" her mom's frightened scream echoed through the neighborhood and she took one last look at her before running away.


	3. Cyborg

Cyborg:

Victor looked at his faint reflection on the café's large glass window. It's been a year since that horrible car accident that left him scarred on the left side of his body.

The scar on his face was healing well if not perfect though he preferred to still wear a hoodie or a baseball cap to his face… but nothing could bring back his arm and leg. Not even the prosthetics could make him feel half-normal.

This was the first time he'd been out in public since the accident; a year in seclusion with his father was more than enough.

Victor lifted his cup to take a sip and decided his coffee needed more sugar so he stood up to get some sugar packets over at the stand on the counter.

"Here's your Red eye." He heard the waiter say to a blonde boy, who seemed about 15, sitting over at the counter. "You sure about that?" the waiter asked, still unsure of the order.

"Yeah, I got a test tomorrow and I need to pull an all-nighter for an all-out cram session." The boy responded. His voice bordered puberty.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Victor was surprised at himself for speaking up; and to a complete stranger!


End file.
